


Through The Seasons: Hearts and Flowers

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: community: qaf_drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-17
Updated: 2007-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of six interconnected drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through The Seasons: Hearts and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's qaf_drabbles community  
> Prompt: Hearts and Flowers  
> One drabble for each season + Post Season Five

**Season One**

"Throw them out," Brian says.

Justin frowns, brushing a hand over one of the bright yellow petals. Feels a lump in his throat, knows it's stupid. Knows the whole thing was stupid. "I thought--" he begins.

"No, you didn't."

"I thought…" his voice barely there, eyes downcast. "I thought maybe they'd make you think of me." Can't believe he's saying it aloud.

Brian's arms wrap around his shoulders, Brian's brow pressed to his. Shift; Brian's breath warm on the shell of his ear.

"Throw them out."

Justin doesn't have the heart. But when Brian does it, Justin doesn't stop him.

 

**Season Two**

He feels guilty, dirty. Feels like the grey sky matches his mood. Feels mute, terrified. He has no idea how to fix it.

Justin sees the flowers outside the store and thinks maybe they'll say what he can't. Buys them on an impulse, barely hears what the merchant says as he counts out dollar bills on the scarred countertop.

He is only two blocks from the loft when he comes to his senses and remembers who he's dealing with. He considers detouring to Debbie's.

But in the end he leaves them in a trashcan, red petals bobbing in the breeze.

 

**Season Three**

He slides open the door, sees Brian's eyes flit from his face to the wrapped flowers in his hand, sees the eyes narrow, harden. And honestly, it's been a long day: his Life Studies professor basically told him his work is shit; he missed the bus; his cheeks are chapped and his feet are frozen and the motherfucking cold feels like it's seeped into his very bones.

Brian open his mouth and--

"Don't start," Justin mumbles.

Later, wrapped in a towel and Brian's arms, he sees the flowers have been arranged in an unfamiliar vase. Justin smiles against Brian's throat.

 

**Season Four**

Brian awakens, disoriented. He doesn't remember falling asleep. Doesn't remember much beyond nausea. Sickly sweet smell that's _him_, now. Another smell that he can't place. Dry throat. When he reaches for the water glass, he sees them. Red and pink and _wrong_. He glares at Justin, gestures wide.

"Those--" he croaks.

"Are staying," Justin finishes smoothly, "and you're not going to give me any shit about it, either."

He meets Justin's eyes, and vaguely recalls telling the kid to push.

Brian contents himself with imagining the many ways he will make Justin pay… once he's able to move without vomiting.

 

**Season Five**

"You live in a tenement and can't afford to buy food," Brian says, "but you'll spend money on these." He flicks one long finger at the garish multi-coloured bouquet and doesn't bother to keep the disdain out of his voice.

"Food may nourish the body," Justin says evenly, "but flowers nourish the soul."

Brian looks up sharply. He can't see Justin's face, but he just knows the little shit is smirking.

Brian leans against the counter, ever mindful of his Armani. But when Justin turns away toward the shellac, Brian slouches and sniffs at one of the bright red blooms.

 

**Post Season Five**

"Hey, I'm ho--"

Brian slides a fist into Justin's shirt, pushes him against the wall, swallows his words in a kiss. Justin smells like cotton, like acrylic paint, like cigarettes and Brian can't get enough. He hears Justin's suitcase drop at his feet, feels Justin's hands grope his ass. He knows only the wet slide of Justin's lips and mingled gasps of lust-need-love.

It's only later, naked, sweat-soaked and breathless, that Justin eyes the mantle, where the bright yellow petals shine.

Justin raises a brow.

Brian ducks his head, avoids Justin's eyes.

"They make me think of you," he murmurs.


End file.
